Ain't No Rest for the Wicked II
by Ninja Violinist
Summary: Lucifer Morningstar thought himself quite generous when he helped the Winchesters avert the Apocalypse. He deserved his vacation. Unfortunately, no one else agrees.


About five billion years ago, God said, "Let there be light!"

But the Darkness said, "Fuck that."

So God and his five children (Michael, Amenadiel, Samael, Raphael, and Gabriel) tricked her and locked her up. Creation was allowed to flourish, and God and His wife, the Goddess, made Earth. On it was life: animals, plants, microorganisms. However, God wanted His creatures to have _intelligence_ and self-awareness, which none of these wondrous things had.

Leviathans were a mistake. He had to make a new dimension just to contain them.

The Goddess gave birth to angels. They were _almost_ perfect. "Almost" being the operative word. Too subservient, too focused. However, the archangels, their big brothers, found them pleasing. God let them have each other in another new realm: Heaven.

And then God created Man after Himself; a free thinking species, capable of both good and evil, creatures that could be prodded to go here and there and still retain a sense of autonomy. It was as close to perfection, to Him, as could possibly be made.

So God commanded His angels to love these new things, these _humans_ more than Himself. They were His ultimate creation, and His children should shelter and guide them.

And his third son said, "Fuck that."

About four and a half billion years ago, the archangel Samael decided to stage himself a little rebellion. Well, not so little, as it threw Heaven and all its celestial inhabitants into Civil War. Really, how could he have known so many of his brothers and sisters were willing to take up arms to defend their stance? It was merely a disagreement, honestly, over whether or not they should love their Father over those paltry meatsacks He'd dumped on Earth. It wasn't _Samael's_ fault that the others were unwilling to listen to reason.

Besides, even _Mother_ agreed with him.

Unfortunately, Samael's forces lost. Dad was both displeased and heartbroken. Most of those who sided with the disobedient abomination repented and were allowed to stay in the Silver City. Those few who refused became Fallen and, eventually, were forced to live and die as mortals. Their angelic DNA passed on through future generations and gave their descendants the ability to access what humans would eventually call "magic".

For Samael, however, the punishment was to be far more severe. He was laughingly rechristened Lucifer, the Light-Bringer, before Michael escorted him into the darkest of the realms.

Hell.

There Lucifer was sentenced to reign, forced to oversee the _worst_ that humanity had to offer. After Mother had Her own little temper tantrum _She_ was eventually thrown down into the Pit. It was as if God had decided Hell was His toilet; after all, that's where He had apparently decided to dump the _shit_ of His existence.

If that's how it was going to be then, well, then it was time to clog the pipes.

Under Father's nose Lucifer manipulated humans into becoming the Lilim, or those that would one day be called "demon", with the help of Adam's first wife. Lilith, the lovely woman, was quite willing to guide the first of these creatures: Alistair, Azazel, Mazikeen. Alas, when Heaven's emissaries came to investigate the origins of these evil creatures Lucifer was sorry to tell them poor Lilith had had an accident. She'd tripped and fallen into a deep hole near Mother's cell and, whoops, couldn't be retrieved. Quite a shame that no one would be able to interrogate her over the whole affair. Besides, human souls were becoming demons on their own the longer they lingered in Hell, and _that_ was certainly no fault of Lucifer's.

That had been a bright spot, but after thousands of years the Ruler of Hell got bored. He was banned from Heaven, Purgatory was the same thing over and over again, and those other versions of reality Father had created were mostly… unpleasant. Nothing else to do but take a casual foray up to Earth.

Lucifer discovered humanity had gotten _interesting_. Conflict! Art! Food! Of course, as soon as he'd really started having fun Amenadiel was dispatched to haul him back to Hell. Spoilsport.

Despite his big brother's persistence, Lucifer still managed to hop topside a few more times. He convinced Imhotep to design a grand triangle for his emperor's tomb rather than a mundane square. Wu Zetian knew how to make some excellent conversation and the _best_ tea. Really, Lucifer told her, she was smart enough to take the throne once that pestilent husband of hers was gone. The Black Plague had been gross (but fascinating). Genghis Khan was a hoot. The 1970s were particularly groovy.

Then someone rang the bell on the Apocalypse and suddenly things were no longer _fun_.

* * *

_2010_, **Stull Cemetery**, _Lawrence, Kansas_

* * *

Sam Winchester staggered backwards, his fists bloody with his brother's blood. Just in time he'd done it. He'd taken control. A minute longer…

"It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him."

Dean struggled to say something, anything. Broken ribs, ruptured organs, a face mangled nearly beyond recognition; he couldn't utter a word. Michael should have been _his_ responsibility, not his brother's! This was _his_ fault, his and Lucifer's. Damn the Devil for backing out on his word.

Lucifer was supposed to be there! They'd agreed: the middle-born archangel would meet his brother at Stull Cemetery, beat Michael down, and crush him physically and spiritually so that Dean could reach his brother. Except Lucifer _fucking_ Morningstar _never showed_. But what else could they have expected? Now Cass was dead, Bobby was dead, and Dean could do nothing but watch as he lost the last bit of family he had.

The rings were thrown down, chant spoken, and a vortex opened to Hell's deepest chambers. All of it was set up to catch Michael and trap him for an eternity; Lucifer and Crowley had seen to it. The first born archangel would never step foot on Earth again.

Dean watched his brother give him one, final farewell glance. Sam tilted forward… and stopped. He stumbled back and gripped two handfuls of his hair. "No. No no no… I won't let you!"

A finger tapped Dean on the shoulder, healing his wounds in an instant. The elder of the Winchesters gasped. "Sorry," Lucifer said, his usual cocksure smile tainted by guilt and misery. Dean briefly noted the blood on the archangel's scalp and the rumpled and torn state of his normally pristine suit. "Holy fire trap laid by our dear brothers and sisters. Thought they'd give Michael a cheating chance."

"LUCIFER!"

Lucifer snapped his gaze up at Sam, no, _Michael_, his eldest brother's white and gold wings sprouting incongruously from the boy's shoulders. The younger archangel gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

Lucifer rose to his feet as Michael struggled to move Sam Winchester's legs. _The boy was still fighting_. "Good for you, Sam," he whispered.

The Devil rushed forward, roaring, and tackled his brother. Michael screamed in denial as Lucifer's momentum carried them into the hole.

And the door closed.

* * *

_Several months later_, **8358 Sunset Boulevard**, _Los Angeles, California_

* * *

It had been too many hard months of making sure all his affairs were in order (demanding the demons stick to their duties, double checking the locks on Mother and Michael's abodes, assigning someone to make sure Hitler got his daily pineapple up the ass) before Lucifer decided to escape Hell. Well, technically, he didn't _escape_ so much as he sauntered out the back door, Sam Winchester's body slung over his shoulder and a good feeling all around of having accomplished something great. Cheers all around!

Besides, after millennia upon millennia of shepherding the damned, and then helping those blasted Winchesters avert the Apocalypse, it was time for an extended vacation, thank you very much.

Lucifer landed in Los Angeles and sent out a general distress call on Angel Radio. There was no way he was going to spend his first (permanent) days on Earth caring for an invalid. Castiel, bright eager star that he was, offered to take charge of the newly resurrected Sam, and Lucifer was happy to give the responsibility over. After all, his now powerful little brother had gotten rather attached to the so-called holy vessels.

(Actually, their closeness was so very… _close_ that Lucifer speculated whether or not dear Cassie had ever experienced what it was like to be the meat in a Winchester sandwich. Straight or not, _brothers_ or not, Lucifer would have checked that off his bucket list right away.)

With Crowley managing Hell, the Princes acquiescent, Lilith dead, and John Constantine willing to help with Mazikeen, Lucifer thought the whole situation done up nice and tidy. And now he had _this_ marvelous place! Why, everything was coming up Lucifer.

What could possibly go wrong?

Other than everything.

* * *

_Two months later_, **Pershing Square Garage**, _Los Angeles, California_

* * *

"Well, looks like someone's lost his head about something."

The detective sighed and stood up from her crouch near the severed neck. "That wasn't even a good one, Lucifer."

"I know. Late night." A bit of the hair on the dog… ah. "Maybe he was getting ahead of himself?"

"Anyone found the head?" Decker shouted. A chorus of negatives responded.

"Perhaps he was giving head and gave a bit too much."

"Lucifer, enough."

He grinned. "Right, then. Should we go see if he ran into a spot of trouble? Or do you think he had a good head on his shoulders?"

The detective rolled her eyes and joined in the search. Lucifer knelt down, his preternatural senses picking up on the lack of humanity on the human-shaped body. A bit too much age in the bones for the taut skin on its hands, and since he felt neither Grace nor sulfur it was most likely a vampire. Not that Decker would believe him if he told her, but it gave Lucifer a bit more insight on who their mysterious murderer could be.

Bloody hunters. Always leaving a mess.

One of the techs walked up, laptop in hand. "We have security cam footage."

"Okay, thanks," said the detective. She cued up the video as Lucifer peered over her shoulder.

It began innocuously enough. Just a guy having a smoke in the parking garage they were currently occupying. His face was turned away from the camera, unfortunately. Abruptly, the victim threw down his cigarette. He threw his arms out in the classic "Come at me, bro!" stance and shouted at someone off camera.

For a few moments there was nothing as the man confronted whoever it was. He reappeared soon afterwards, grappling with a taller stranger. A machete in the newcomer's hand glinted in the light. The stranger broke away and gave two good punches to the victim's face. While the man staggered backwards, the blade swept through the air and decapitated him.

The murderer quickly glanced from one side to the other before grabbing the head, explaining why they had yet to find it. As he spun on his heel to leave Lucifer cursed. "What?" Decker asked as she paused the video on the suspect's retreating backside.

"Nothing," he replied gamely.

"Uh huh. Right. Spill it, Lucifer."

"Well, I think I know the man. That one, at least," he clarified as he pointed at the frozen image of their assailant. "I might've rescued him from Hell a few months back."

"Um, okay? What kind of hell?"

She obviously thought he was being metaphorical. Again. "The 'flaying your skin off one strip at a time' kind."

The detective looked down at the screen, pity now in her eyes. "I guess that sort of thing would make anyone go a little psycho."

"Quite. Although I thought my brother was watching over this one…"

"Amenadiel?"

"No, no. A younger brother."

"Good grief, how many do you have?"

"Too many, if you ask me. If you'll excuse me…?"

"Sure, sure," Decker said as she handed the laptop back to the technician. She turned back to Lucifer… "Let me know if you—" …who was _gone_, "—hear anything." The detective shook her head. Working with Lucifer Morningstar was becoming weirder and weirder. Maybe one day he might actually be truthful about all the nonsense he constantly spouted.

* * *

"And you bloody well better call me back, or so help me Dad…" Lucifer nearly rammed his finger through his phone hanging up on Castiel's voicemail. What in the world was going on? If that _had_ been Sam Winchester on the video, he'd _never_ before acted so blasé over the possibility of getting caught. The Winchesters had been downright paranoid after the whole incident with the shapeshifter and the bank.

He poured himself a shot of Patròn and downed it. Certainly Lucifer had no reason whatsoever to feel guilty if something was wrong with Sam. There were plenty of others to blame, why, he could name several right now! Cassie for not taking proper care of the man, Dean for not having the demon blood necessary to weaken Michael, _Michael_ for deciding it was time for their little Apocalyptic tête-à-tête, Zachariah for helping him, the other archangels for egging them all on—

"Hello, brother."

Speak of the… well, the _him_ (though Devil was such an overused reference). "Well, well. _You're_ certainly the last one I would have expected to show up in my little abode. Drink?"

"Why would I taint myself with such vile poisons?"

"Because they're _fun_. In fact, you should try molly. Might ease out that stick up your butt, Raphael."

The fourth archangel sneered. "Oh, Lucifer. Slumming it down here with the mud-monkeys. How far the mighty have fallen."

Lucifer grinned and poured another shot. "Says the idiot who got himself trapped in holy fire by a 'mud-monkey' and a fallen angel."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "I'm not here to banter, brother. I'm here for your… acquiescence."

Oh, this should be good. Out of the five archangels Raphael had been the most prickly. In the grand archangel caucus, he'd been too young for anyone other than Gabriel to take seriously, and too old to stoop to the antics the aforementioned brother engaged in. As a result, Raphael had become even more of a stickler for the rules and the castes it created, to the point where he would viciously punish anyone upsetting the status quo. "Regarding?"

"Heaven. It's been decided that I shall rule in our Father's stead."

Lucifer barked out a laugh. "And what nutter thought that was a good idea?"

"Me."

The absolute seriousness with which Raphael spoke wiped away Lucifer's mirth. He downed his second shot. "What are you up to, little brother?"

Raphael smiled, his eyes dark. "The throne of Heaven is empty. Michael, our rightful ruler, is trapped, thanks to you. Amenadiel declined, said he was tasked with a greater purpose. Gabriel would have been _incapable_. And no angel would listen to _you_, Abomination."

"Careful," Lucifer growled. With a _thunk_ he placed down his empty glass. "You've never, _ever_ bested me, _little_ brother. I'm the one who taught you to fight, remember?" His irises briefly gleamed red. "Shall we have another lesson?"

That smug twist never left Raphael's lips. He snapped his fingers and was abruptly surrounded by three of their siblings, all holding blades. "I might not have excelled at combat, _big_ brother, but the lessons you gave me in intrigue and command? I learned those quite well."

Yes, yes he had, and it was why many of the other angels had always readily accepted his leadership. Apparently they still did. But this array? The blades in their brothers and sister's hands might not be able to kill Lucifer, but they would _hurt_. Plus, the suit? Armani. "I'll think about it."

In a decidedly non-respectful tone, Raphael snapped, "What?"

"I said," Lucifer repeated, incensed. He stepped forward, crimson once again lighting up his eyes. The less powerful angels stepped back. "That I'll _think_ about it."

A gesture could have obliterated their siblings, leaving a clear line from the Ruler of Hell to the claimant of Heaven's throne. If Raphael pushed, Lucifer would attack, and their battle would not end well for the younger archangel. With all the dignity he could muster, Raphael stated, "Very well," extended the green-varnished blackness of his wings, and flew away.

Their siblings followed afterwards in a rainbow of feathers and the flurry of flop sweat. The entire encounter couldn't have had taken more than five minutes. Despite that, it had disrupted the pleasantness of his current life. He knew independent thinkers in Heaven, like Castiel or Balthazar, wouldn't tolerate the dictatorial leadership style Raphael known for. Others, however, would fall in line, happy to ease back into familiar, subservient roles. In other words, the Silver City might very well be ground zero for yet another angelic civil war, and Lucifer couldn't bear the thought of more of his brothers and sisters dying at each others' hands. However, Lucifer wasn't allowed past those metaphorically pearly gates, and was powerless to enter the confrontation.

But others could. "You better answer," Lucifer muttered to himself as he scrolled through his contacts.

The other end rang and rang, and just before the Devil was prepared to go fly off and kick this particular brother's ass for ghosting him, the call was answered. "Hello?"

"Gabriel," Lucifer replied, a dark grin on his lips. "Time to cash in on that favor you owe me, baby brother."

* * *

**Author's note** : Some canon stuffs!

Sam took in Michael for reasons that will eventually be revealed. Lucifer already had his tall, handsome meatsuit and no one wants to _not_ imagine Tom Ellis and the orgy pants.

Lucifer still has his wings. The lore will mix Supernatural and Lucifer: they still manifest as feathered appendages, but are more ethereal than physical. As in, they're not really cut-offable. Sort of. I'll do more explaining, I promise. Maybe. I'm picking more of on the lines of the Guild Hunter series which sort of reflect either the origins or the personality of the angel.

There are 5 archangels. In order they are: Michael, Amenadiel, Lucifer/Samael, Raphael, and Gabriel. Middle children are always the troublemakers (cough)my-own-sister(cough).

Yes, the Trickster lives. Probably shacking up with porn stars.

The Goddess and the Darkness will both exist.

Demonology will be mostly along Supernatural lines, as in the smoke and the traps and whatnot. The carryover from Lucifer will be the monster faces.

Angels also have their wispy Supernatural forms, which means Amenadiel and Lucifer are technically inhabiting vessels.

I'm not holding to anything that was in the other fic. That was just blurbles.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!


End file.
